


Songs for a Troubadour

by OrangeBlossoms



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-11-23 01:38:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11392650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrangeBlossoms/pseuds/OrangeBlossoms
Summary: The life and times of Maribelle of Themis.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was prompted by the thought "Well, what if they just never got S Supports with anyone during the storyline of the game?" and then it became a thing mostly about Maribelle.

It had taken her some time to realize she wasn’t wanted in their circle as they excluded her slowly at first. They would play hide and seek in the great hall and choose her as the seeker. The first time she had worried she had misunderstood where the game was set to take place as she searched every spot she could think of, including the adjoining kitchens and the larder. One of the cooks had fawned over her dress and given her a small meat pie for her visit. It was over an hour later when she found them in the gardens, bright young voices laughing and whooping with delight as they chased each other in the sun. The second time it happened she was fairly certain she understood the true nature of the sport they were playing. She no longer volunteered to be seeker. 

The previous Exalt had granted many new titles to individuals for their loyalty and service in the war against Plegia, her father had told her one evening when she had expressed that she was finding it difficult to get along with the other children. They were new to life at court and had not had the opportunity for the same level of studies that she had. He encouraged her to do her best to set an example of Ylissean nobility. She took the talk to heart. Unfortunately, the other children did not appreciate having proper manners dictated to them. 

It wasn't long before exclusion began to include rumors and lies. When a vase was knocked over because two of the boys had been roughhousing, all the children pointed to Maribelle as the steward demanded answers, aghast at the loss of a gift from a visiting foreign delegation. He had taken her straight to her father, his arm shaking in repressed anger as he dragged her by her wrist. Her father had told her to apologize for the damage she had done, unwilling to hear her side of the story. Later when she was pouting in her room after the dinner hour, of which she had been denied both the attendance of and the meal, he sat her down for a lesson in politics. This was not Themis where the only punishment she would have to fear would be a ruler across her knuckles from her tutors if she neglected her studies. Though she was the daughter of a Duke, the new nobility had a desire for power and upward mobility. She would do well to keep that in mind.

Less than a week later, she was crying in the communal reading room in the guest quarters. Her hair and dress were ruined. She knew her mother would scold her when her parents returned that evening. When the attendants who had been monitoring them stepped away, two of the little lordlings had pulled out her ribbons and thrown them in the mud in one of the courtyards, daring her to retrieve them. She had yelled at them that she would never do something so uncivilized before stomping off. As she pushed through the ring of onlooking children, one of the girls had roughly bumped into her causing her to trip, inciting a round of giggles. She had ended up with dirt on her hands and knees, small stones pressing into shallow cuts caused by the fall. Determined not to show her tears, she got up, brushed her dress off and walked inside, back ramrod straight. Several servants stopped to ask after her, but she insisted that she had simply fallen and would return to her rooms to tidy up. Once she arrived to their hall, however, she realized she was in no mood to explain what had occurred and instead found an empty corner to occupy.

One of her arms was wrapped around her knees as as she used her free hand to morosely rub at the stain where a bleeding palm had made contact with the fabric. She hadn’t heard anyone enter the room and was startled when an apple was gently placed on her lap. Her watery gaze angled upwards to see another girl close to her age, if slightly younger. Her initial reaction was to worry that the other child had suffered a similar fate. There were leaves in her hair and a scuff mark on one of her cheeks. Grass stains were smudged over her yellow dress and there was even a tear in the shoulder of the fabric.

“Hi, I’m Lissa. I thought you might want an apple, so I climbed and got one for you.” 

Lissa beamed at her expectantly.

Maribelle rose to her feet, holding the apple with the tips of her fingers away from her dirty palm before curtsying low to the princess.

“Princess Lissa, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

Lissa cocked her head to the side in response, frowning slightly.

“I’d rather you didn't. It's awful enough when the grown ups do that even though I know they think I’m silly and foolish.”

“But you are a princess!”

Lissa seemed to think for a moment before responding, “And I order you to treat me like a friend instead! If I’m a princess, that means you have to listen!” She crossed her arms over her chest and gave a sharp nod, looking pleased at her decree.

Maribelle failed to think of a strong argument against that logic before focusing on a particular piece of the young princess’s proclamation, “You want to be my friend?”

“Yeah!”

There was a pause, Lissa stood smiling pleasantly, no sign of artifice in her demeanor.

“I would never think of you as foolish,” Mirabelle said, for the first time in her life feeling shy.

In a shockingly ignoble manner, Lissa threw herself at her new friend hugging her close, Maribelle crying out in surprise. Her parents rarely showed physical affection. It felt unfamiliar to be held, but not unpleasant. Normally she would have been worried about her dress getting disheveled, but it was already too late for the both of them. 

When her parents had returned, Lissa held her hand as she lied and said she had compelled Maribelle to join her on her tree climbing adventure. Both children promised never to do it again before Lissa's caretaker found them, chastising Lissa for missing several of her lessons earlier and running off again. Maribelle soon learned that it was a common pattern of behavior for her friend.

//§//

To Maribelle, Lissa was a fey child, whimsical in her desires. There were many times when she merely observed her actions, but even that was liberating. Lissa never mocked her manner of speech, and any time she teased her it was always good-natured. In turn Maribelle abetted in her mischief, whether it was procuring nets for catching wet and slimy things or standing watch in the doorway to Chrom’s quarters as Lissa devised her revenge on her sibling. She thought that Lissa was possibly the most unbridled of princesses, but that often worked in their favor. It wasn't until she was older that she wondered if the lack of structure was due to neglect after the death of her parents. All serious efforts had been focused on the two elder siblings.

She was in the middle of a history lesson one day when Lissa appeared in the doorway insistent that she needed to talk to Maribelle. It always surprised her to see her tutors unwilling to deny the princess who was most likely supposed to be attending to her own studies. 

“I want to show you this,” she whispered, eyes bright and hands delicately cupped around an object. 

As she opened them a butterfly tentatively beat its wings before taking off down the corridor, Lissa smiling as she observed its retreat.

“It made me think of you!” she giggled, a sharp contrast to the jeering laughs of the other children, “I’ll see you later!”

Just like that she was galloping back down the hall presumably off on another daring exploit. 

//§//

Not all encounters were joyous. She knew something must have been wrong if Lissa was this downcast. They were in a hidden corner of one of the gardens behind several rose bushes and Lissa was crouched with her knees pulled up to her chest. Lissa’s gaze was unfocused and it was clear she had been crying. Her initial careful queries resulted in Lissa shaking her head listlessly.

At a loss, she sat down with her, ignoring any concerns over her dress, and pulled her close, her cheek resting on the top of her head.

The story came in fits and starts as Lissa did her best to fend off tears. Emmeryn had gone to greet her public. Her path to peace was controversial. Their wars with Plegia had left the lands ravaged and families torn apart. While most did not wish for a return to the trials of war, many were unable to find closure by turning the other cheek as Emmeryn had chosen to do.

She had returned home with a bruise blooming across the side of her face, her guards preventing further damage. Phila had swept her up and taken her to safety receiving some of her own welts in the process. They had thrown rocks at their Exalt, at Emmeryn, at her sister. Her kind sister who worked tirelessly in a role she had taken on too soon in life. Chrom had been outraged. Lissa was scared and saddened. Maribelle decided she hated them, her childlike understanding vacillating between two extremes. The Exalt was on one end: a symbol of all that was good with the halidom and by extension her small world within the walls of the castle and her home in Themis. In stark contrast were the ungrateful unwashed masses too stupid realize what their Exalt was doing on their behalf.

Upon Lissa seeing several cuts on her sister’s bodyguard, Phila had lamented that the young princess should, “Cry not for me, but for my steed who bore the brunt of the assault.”

The imagery of one of the beautiful creature’s coats streaked with blood caused her to grow even more distraught resulting in her being escorted out and encouraged to find her friends.

As Lissa relayed her story, Maribelle thought of how her father had spoken to her on more than one occasion about how fortunate she was to know peace in her time. It was something she acknowledged and agreed with yet would fail to fully grasp the implications of for several years.

//§//

When her studies began to include battle training, she chose to specialize in staves along with some rudimentary field first aid. As the daughter of a Duke, she would be expected to lend her service during times of need. A healer could always be of use. She had been delighted to find that Lissa would be following a similar path. The princess had shown an unanticipated amount of focus on learning to use staves, a stark contrast to how she avoided most other formal instruction. It wasn't until Chrom had left with his militia that Maribelle began to understand the driving force behind Lissa's newfound ambition.

When Emmeryn gave her reluctant approval for Lissa to enlist, Lissa herself had posed the question of joining to Maribelle, which resulted in a swift accord. She would be honored to serve in the name of the Exalt and her siblings. Her father was of mixed opinion on her new path, but ultimately gave his blessings. Their family had just begun recovering from a scandal. It could bring some manner of redemption for House Themis to be represented in Chrom’s Shepherds.

Unfortunately, it wasn't long before her temper and her recklessness caused trouble for others. She had been foolish in her attempt to parley with and then rout the bandits razing the village near her home. Her only satisfaction was the sharp crack of her healing staff across a brigand’s face before they knocked her off her mount, roughly binding her arms at the wrists as she loudly wished all manner of misfortune to befall them. It wasn't until she saw the Exalt that she realized she had become a pawn in a game that was much further reaching than court rumors. Still she remained obstinate, taunting the vile king and his witch mistress. Her father had avoided execution, yet there she was, soon to be slain by a bandit’s axe or lit into with dark magic, setting off a war that neither the people of Ylisse nor those of Plegia wanted or deserved. She could only hope Lissa would look away.

Upon being rescued by Ricken and the maneuvers of their tactician, she begrudgingly acknowledged the stranger’s skill in keeping Lissa safe. After the encounter, Lissa helped clean her wounds and healed the mottled skin around her wrists. Her capture was only a small portent of things to come. 

//§//

Being a mounted healer did not provide the same level of bonding with others. She would flit in and out of position, careful not to become an easy target. To be a burden would have been shameful. Other members of their band became fast friends and partners, a task that rarely came without great effort to her.

Lissa, however, made friends and lifelong attachments wherever she went. Several months into the campaign it became apparent that not only had she caught the eyes of new companions, suitors were beginning to line up with hopes of a more permanent arrangement. Lissa would discuss it over tea with her, tentatively putting possibilities on the table for Maribelle to evaluate. 

Frederick?

Far too old for someone as lovely and youthful as herself. His dedication to her brother would always surpass that of his care for his wife.

Donnel?

He was not yet a man! He would want to take his bride home to care for his mother. Lissa would be working the fields until her dying days. Her resplendence would outshine such a simple life.

Gaius?

He would certainly return to a life of crime after the war, mark her words. 

“Marry in haste, repent at leisure,” she had once said, pinkie finger in the air as she sipped her tea.

When she was feeling snappish, her comments could be cruel. Even Lissa had become cross with her over several assertions, causing her to reel herself in and attempt to change the subject to something less contentious. Both parties would leave wounded. Maribelle knew each time she must have crossed a line to have made even Lissa upset with her. She would offer a heartfelt apology and things would return to normal, Maribelle eventually learning to dull some of her sharper assessments.

This went on for a stretch all the while the two adapted to new fighting styles and further honed their abilities. Due to them diversifying their toolset, they found themselves battling side-by-side more often. It was in these moments she could let her true feelings shine through. With no need to hold back she would gladly dive in front of incoming blows to shield her dearest, dodging gracefully into a counterattack. She slowly began to acknowledge that perhaps her dubiously intentioned counsel had been selfish and was potentially contrary to Lissa's happiness as much as she had truly believed in some of her sentiments. 

Changing tactics, she vowed to be more supportive should the topic arise at a future tea time. Lissa would not be a spinster. That was an insult meant for herself, one that her peers in court would whisper just loudly enough for her to hear. She was far too difficult. No husband would wish to spend any time with her beyond what would be required of him. The rumors evolved as she grew older even as a second war raged on and there should have been more important matters to discuss. Some went as far to suggest that perhaps her inclinations weren't natural or that the way she would clutch and hang on every word of the princess, like ivy on a trellis, was entirely self-serving. Not even when allusions were made about her father’s innocence being paid for did she respond in kind. 

The only time she would fire back would be if they dared insult Lissa herself. She would take that bait at every single provocation providing even more proof of how awful Maribelle of Themis was to all who witnessed her outbursts. She could handle being referred to as a social charity case if it made Lissa into a saint. She could not, however, abide by any suggestion that Lissa was marred by mere association. There was a time when it felt as though she bled with each retort only attracting more wyverns to the commotion, delighted to scavenge on the edges, snapping at perceived weaknesses. 

When the Shepherds were formed she had initially thought it a chance to escape and rewrite the narrative. In truth, her desirable traits continued to be concealed in a thicket of briars. When being honest with herself, Lissa was what she would consider well-adjusted, whereas Maribelle could only maintain the illusion until someone drew her ire.

//§//

Many individuals who came to the healing tent would notice a marked difference in the attitudes of the army's primary healers. Maribelle was efficient and no nonsense in her work. She was of the mind that anything worth doing was worth doing well, so naturally she excelled in most areas. The exception being bedside manner. This was where Lissa's nature contrasted sharply with her own. They discussed the topic one time during a slow afternoon. Maribelle was of the mind that it was not her responsibility (nor was it Lissa’s) to provide emotional succor to the army in its entirety. They were healers with a growing skillset that commanded respect. Not wet nurses. If Lissa wanted to grace everyone with her sunny disposition as it came naturally to her, that was one thing, but Maribelle had little tolerance for those who wished to unburden their personal problems onto their caretakers as they were stitched up. 

The discussion was at the forefront of her mind when one particular manchild had arrived during her shift hoping to be coddled. He was visibly disappointed to see Maribelle, possibly due to the rather scathing rejection she had handed to him during a recent conversation.

“Oh, hush, Virion. Live up to your standing. I’ve treated far worse,” she responded to his moaning over what was a minor cut from sparring with his former vassal.

“Ah, but this is nothing compared to the ache in my heart,” he declared, swooning on the cot. 

She finished patching him up and would be pleased to see him take his leave.

“As you can see, there are no tools here to help you with that. Run along and find someone else to cast your woes upon.” 

“Lady Maribelle, you wound me further. I thought perhaps someone as lovely as yourself would have experienced a burden similar to mine or is it that you are the cause of the heartache of others?” he asked, extending a hand to her. 

“If this is some circular form of flattery you are attempting to charm me with, let me warn you that it is having quite the opposite effect.”

“No, indeed, milady. I simply wished to have a heart-to-heart a-and fully intended to offer similar services in return.”

Virion was far down the list of people she would consider a proper confidant, but his downtrodden expression did make her feel the slightest bit guilty.

“Oh, very well, I suppose it should be easy enough to point out where you are going wrong in your romantic endeavors. Firstly, are you harassing someone who has told you straight away that she is not interested in you?” she asked, cleaning and putting away the supplies she had used.

The flash of remorse that crossed his face was enough to cause her to frown at him.

“‘Harassing’ seems somewhat of an…” he started before Maribelle tsked him.

“My advice? Search elsewhere! And stay that honeyed tongue of yours. It gets you in more trouble than it helps. Now, I have work to do. Begone!” 

She waved him away with several flicks of her hand. 

“Ah, but milady! I had offered to return the gesture in kind. Should you need to disclose some trouble of your own, I will consider everything you say to be spoken in absolute confidence.”

“Some trouble?” she brought a hand to her cheek in thought.

“Has some gallant fellow stolen your heart, milady? I can tell by your reaction there must be someone on your mind?”

The insinuation returned her from her musings.

“A gallant fellow? Hmm no. Perhaps when we are not at war I can begin to think of frivolous things again,” she responded, waving away his concern.

“ _Frivolous_? My dear lady, love is the greatest aspiration of all of mankind.”

The topic of discussion was beginning irritate her.

“Well, how fortunate for me to be womankind and not be required to devote myself to a single ambition in life.”

He looked stricken, but it was challenging to parse out the genuine from the theatrical in the case of Virion.

“I wish you and whichever woman succumbs to your advances all the luck and happiness you both might need.”

He left the tent healed of body, but not of heart.

It wasn't entirely accurate to suggest no one was on her mind, but it was certainly less confusing to do so. She supposed she would need to apologize to Virion at some point. It would serve her better to avoid occasions that would require an apology in the first place, but that was easier said than done.

//§//

It had been a clear evening when she exited the strategy tent only to find Lissa waiting for her. She had been thoroughly chastised by Chrom and their strategist for picking a fight with an unruly pack of village drunkards. They had been harassing Libra, but more importantly, their behavior had been a stain on what had otherwise been a relaxing afternoon. There were few opportunities to take a day both off the road and the battlefield. Now the mood was ruined after receiving such a dressing down from their commander. 

That all washed away at the sight of Lissa's smile. As she approached, Lissa had leaned in and said that several of the women had been pleased to hear of her verbal assault on the riffraff as they had been subjected to catcalls during a prior visit into town for supplies.

“Yes, well, though I do not particularly enjoy being reprimanded, I cannot turn a blind eye to such distasteful behavior,” she stated primly.

“So, you’d do it all over again anyway!” Lissa grinned.

“Precisely, darling,” Maribelle smirked in response, head held high. 

It was then that Maribelle noticed Lissa was hefting a large blanket. She looked at it inquiringly.

“Oh, this? Well, I was told we could see an evening star tonight and I thought about moving away from the fires to get a better view. When I heard you had gotten in trouble, I thought you might need some cheering up, so I decided to invite you!”

She stalked over, boots delicately navigating the trampled earth before placing a gloved hand on Lissa’s shoulder.

“You were planning on going alone? You should know I am always available should you need company.”

It was a weakness, she knew. Lissa’s voice pulled her in like the tide. Who was she to deny it?

_You are lovely and I'm in love._


	2. Chapter 2

She reached an epiphany one day whilst having tea with Olivia. If anyone was nearly as sweet as Lissa, it was Olivia. 

She began by inquiring politely as to the dancer’s marriage. Did she feel well cared for both on and off the battlefield? Was her husband attentive to her needs or did he need some sense smacked into him with a parasol upside his head? Olivia stammered, but was able to convey her happiness at the union. 

Maribelle made a dryly stated observation on how it seemed weddings were occurring at an alarming frequency in their little army. She began to worry if she had well and truly made things worse for Lissa.

“Is there anyone who has caught your eye?” Olivia asked, smiling into her cup as she sipped it daintily.

“I suppose, but it's quite impossible,” Maribelle replied, waving away any concern with a deft flick of her gloved hand, her mind focused on her thoughts and not her words.

“Oh! Don't say that!” Olivia cried, “U-unless it is someone already spoken for…?”

The upset tone of her companion broke her out of her reverie.

“My apologies, what were we discussing?”

“Your love. Y-you said it is impossible,” Olivia replied.

Olivia seemed surprised as Maribelle blushed in response. She took a moment to think things over before taking a calming breath.

“Olivia, I greatly value your opinion and your friendship. What would be your advice for such an intractable situation?” she asked, placing her cup in its saucer.

“I-I don't think I understand enough to say.”

“Fair enough. I am not willing to share many details or really any details beyond what I have already said. I am assuming your confidence in all matters I discuss here,” to this Olivia nodded, “If there is no hope, how does one proceed?”

Olivia was silent, brow creased and hands fidgeting with a linen napkin that had been laid out.

Undeterred, Maribelle chose to answer her own question, “I will support this person to the best of my abilities for as long as I am able, but I-I also realize I must invest in myself. I need a future to look forward to that isn't chained to the fate of something unobtainable, a childish fantasy. Our small gathering today is just the start.”

She raised her cup in thanks before finishing what was left.

Maribelle later wondered if she actually had said too much. She began to notice that Olivia had started watching her at odd times. Perhaps out of worry, or perhaps it was just to satiate her wild curiosity. She would then chastise herself for thinking ill of her friend.

//§//

In an effort to continue her regimen of self-improvement, she attempted to speak more often and more kindly with her fellow Shepherds. Stahl had proven himself to be a remarkable finder of information, his dream a simple yet respectable quest to aid others. Frederick had provided her with invaluable knowledge, which she would one day put to the use as head of her house. Ricken had always been a dear and was doing his family name proud. Vaike opened her eyes to the energy of the common folk who were quicker to adopt her than her own peers had ever been. On the side, she continued her passion project to assist Olivia and then Sumia in their quest to act with the poise and refinement she knew was within their grasp. They both were wonderful individuals who merely needed some boosts in confidence. She still fought fiercely next to Lissa, but made a point to keep an eye out for all their comrades-in-arms.

//§//

There was no ring to be passed from House Themis to the ruling family of Ylisse. No contract would be recognized by any kingdom she had known. Once again realizing the impossibility was a bitter medicine to swallow. She was determined that she would not drag Lissa down. She could no longer hold her back even if she herself felt shackled to her own sentiments. Whenever she felt guilt, however, a strong surge of emotion would insist that their futility was the only aspect she would ever regret.

Still, she kept her vow to support her friend. Lissa would often find her still awake reading by candlelight on nights she was unable to sleep. She held her during the times she mourned her sister’s death and again after finding Emmeryn alive with no memories. Other nights she would sit by her side in silent companionship as she read and took notes. During one such evening, she continued her studies as Lissa leaned against her, head lolling forward in exhaustion.

“You should go to sleep. I will walk you to your tent. We march on the morrow,” she murmured, turning a page, “You can barely sit up as it is.”

“I don't wanna,” she mumbled back, nuzzling into her shoulder before breaking into a giggle that ended in a muffled snort, “ _You_ should go to sleep.”

Maribelle closed her text and looked over to Lissa in the dim light.

“You are delirious. I will turn in for the night if you do,” she conceded.

“I _guess_ ,” she yawned before wrapping an arm around one of Maribelle's, holding the two in their seats, “Lucina said I’ll be kind and warm in the future. She said I found someone, too. That we’re happy. It's a nice thought, y’know, besides all the end of the world stuff…” 

Lissa trailed off and closed her eyes and Maribelle exhaled upon realizing Lissa had indeed fallen asleep. She would set her up in the cot when she was less likely to disturb her. It had never occurred to her to inquire after her future self. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know. If Lissa was cared for and happy, she could be content with that knowledge. 

//§//

When Lissa was injured, she thanked the divine for having chosen the healing arts. There was no request too demanding or too seemingly unimportant she wouldn't fulfill. The wars continued, changing them all and in the end they would return to a different reality. Less deadly, certainly, but a harsh reality for her nonetheless. 

She had already begun planning her transition when they were on the road. Her experiences with her companions inspiring her to a greater calling than simply marrying and managing the accounts of her house. She would aspire to the role of magistrate. She was already proficient in casting judgment, but it would be justice that she would now seek for nobility and commoner alike.

//§//

Lissa had invited her, had begged her to accompany her on her travels after Grima’s defeat. It would be her first assignment as a leader, having traveled with Chrom to find their tactician. It had been almost physically painful declining. During dinner that night she had claimed to be feeling ill, a deception not far from the truth, and had retired to her rooms early. She wept until she fell asleep only to feel childish and not at all well-rested the following day.

She had done some independent research on who would be accompanying Lissa on her journey and taken it upon herself to speak with several directly and recruit an additional person to travel in her stead. The table was set with an assortment of delectable bribes.

“So, let me get this straight, Princess wants to go on a merry jaunt throughout the countryside and you’d like me to go, too?”

“It would be solving two worries of mine at once, you see. Keeping you out of trouble as I’m certain they’ll find ways to use your… skills in the name of the crown instead of against it, and there will be someone I trust who will watch out for her safety,” she explained, watching as he picked up a sweet bun from the display. Maribelle did her best to ignore the crumbs that he allowed to fall onto his garments.

“Well, that’s all fine and dandy and I appreciate you trying to look out for me, but I’d think you’d want to go with your lady love yourself,” he said. 

“Ex _cuse_ me?” Maribelle leaned forward, her tone ominous as Gaius uncurled a sweet bun, savoring some of the sticky topping.

“Oh, I just always assumed. You slept in each other's tents often enough.” Gaius shrugged, finishing off the bun and licking his fingers.

“Of all the presumptuous-! I have _never_ heard _anyone_ speak so shamelessly of the princess!” she spluttered, her tea cup shaking in barely contained rage.

“Oh... so you’re just torturing yourself,” Gaius said, unperturbed as he popped a pastel pink petit four into his mouth,”Well, far be it from me to tell you how to live your life, Poor Little Rich Girl, but don’t forget you’re the one here asking for a favor.”

She crumpled at the reminder, complexion going sallow. In truth, she owed him her life in a way more personal than what had occurred on the battlefields of the war. 

Swallowing her pride, she cleared her throat. “Let us pretend your ill-mannered insinuations never occurred. Name your price.”

“Well, there’s no challenge if someone pays me up front and I suppose you’re right, there could be some fun to be had on the road again. Guess Shepherds pay and gruel wasn’t all that bad and if I find some chests along the way...” 

He raised his tea in mocking imitation of herself before clinking it against her own tremoring cup.

“Cheers, Twinkles.”

//§//

A few weeks later, when Lissa's assembled companions were set to leave the following day, Maribelle invited Lissa over for tea.

“Have you been avoiding me?”

Maribelle sighed in response, averting her gaze.

“I need to apologize. You must understand, darling… it is difficult for me to deny you anything,” she said.

From a side table, she lifted a neatly wrapped package.

“It is all the supplies you might need for correspondence. If it pleases you, I will write you of the goings on in Ylisstol and Themis and you will tell me of your grand adventures in Ylisse and abroad.” 

Tears appeared in Lissa’s eyes as she reached out and placed her hands over Maribelle's gloved ones. Contradictory to her station, her skin had grown rough from regular handling of the wooden staves and axes. She could feel patches catch on the material. Maribelle had once offered Lissa her best pair to wear, but in typical Lissa fashion, she was not to be constrained. 

“I’m sorry! I’m gonna miss you. I got so used to being able to see you every day. I respect your decision though and always know that I’ll be rooting for you! I’m going to write you a lot!”

Maribelle lifted Lissa's hand and kissed the back in farewell, a dull ache settling in her chest.

Lissa kept her word though there were several letters that had been lost in transit causing Maribelle to fret over her safety as her correspondence would otherwise arrive like clockwork.

Lissa's letters were often short and jumped excitedly from topic to topic, her script more of a scrawl. 

_To my dearest friend Maribelle,_

_Today we are in a village on the border. They say they never really recovered from the wars my father took part in and only had just gotten back on their feet when the last war with Plegia and then the next with Valm broke out._

_I got to learn some woodwork. I don't think you would have enjoyed it as the sun shined all day and I’m pretty sure I got some color on my cheeks. I was missing your parasol! Maybe I should pick one up. We could be matching!_

_I also had a chance to set up a medical tent and work with some local clerics. The villagers didn't even know I was a princess. I think it would've bothered me at one point, but they were so happy we were there that I completely forgot about it. I’m thinking going incognito could be fun! I’ll just be Lissa the Cleric._

_I’m glad the Shepherds have found a place in this new world and am proud to count myself among them. If you ever change your mind or want to take a break from the books, there is always a place for you here. Most of all I want you to succeed in your own dreams. I believe in you!_

_Also, I tried pressing some flowers in one of the mage’s tomes for you, but they weren't happy I had moved their magic books around. They thought it was one of my pranks. As if they'd have to guess if they got pranked! I don’t think mages would be too phased by frogs though._

_I hope you are doing well and I’m cheering you on every day!_

_Yours always,_

_Lissa_

She nearly always included marginalia. Sometimes it was additional commentary though more often than not it was sketches of things that happened to catch her eye, a village mutt that had followed her for the day after feeding him some of her breakfast or a bird she had seen while riding. She had asked Maribelle to identify it for her.

_My darling Lissa,_

_Whether you realize it or not, it is your birthday. I have taken it upon myself to notify several of your traveling companions so they can celebrate this momentous occasion properly as I cannot be there. To be honest, I seriously considered traveling to meet you myself. Had I not an examination period over the next several weeks, you might have found me riding over over a hill to greet you one morning. As it is, I can only send you my love via letter._

_My apologies for the brevity. I fear I spent too much time selecting your gift and it leaves me very little chance for writing. We shall have a belated celebration when we next meet._

_Attached you will find your present and an accompanying note. Should you require more supplies, please be sure to write me posthaste and I will send them via Pegasus._

_Warmest regards on your special day,_

_Maribelle_

Inside waterproof packaging were a mix of brushes, textured paper, some waxy envelopes and an aquarelle painting set. Attached to the packaging was a note:

_I will have a much easier time identifying the wildlife if you send them to me in color. Please use the specialized envelopes to ensure they arrive in tact. I will secure them until your safe return._

//§//

After Lissa departed, she spent most of her time sequestered away in libraries and archives in Ylisstol, often working late into the night. She would sometimes ask Stahl for an infusion to fend off her fatigue or to deal with the after effects of the strain of her schedule. He and his wife had accompanied Lissa at the start of her journey, but returned to Ylisstol overjoyed to announce they had a child on the way. 

When she had looked in the mirror one morning, she had been dismayed to see that her fair skin had begun to take a more pallid tone. Pasty wasn’t a descriptor she ever wanted attributed to herself, so with permission from an archivist and the head librarian she borrowed some of the less rare manuscripts from the collection and set herself up to study at a desk in her quarters near a window. It was a drastic improvement over the closed stacks and even the reading room. She had begun to think she was acquiring a strong aversion to dust, her eyes itching and throat becoming irritated within an hour of browsing targeted subject areas.

The castle library was more bearable, but the contents of its collections were limited. She had spent part of an afternoon there attempting to find some seminal texts she was certain would be present only to discover the range that would have housed law books had been resorted to contain fairy tales and romance novels. She supposed Her Grace the Queen would receive priority when it came to shelf space. She wavered for some time over whether she wanted to formally take issue with this when she heard someone enter.

Turning, she recognized the ash brown ringlets immediately and greeted her Queen with all due obeisance. During the first several years of her reign, she would have grown flustered, but she acknowledged the gesture from her former etiquette instructor with a graceful nod before her face settled on a more open expression.

“I didn't know you enjoyed these stories, Maribelle!” she exclaimed, sloughing off several years in the process as her eyes lit at the prospect of finding a kindred soul.

“Well, I-” Maribelle started.

“You have to tell me which ones you like best!” she said, placing a stack of titles she had carried in on a reading table, “I almost never get to visit here myself anymore. Oh, have you read this one?”

Maribelle accepted the offered volume and read over the title.

_Master of Wyverns_

“I have not,” she admitted.

“It’s part of a series! He trains wyverns for a living, but ‘who will tame the wyvern tamer’? That’s the tagline. Or maybe you would like this one better,” she said, moving to the shelves and pulling another set of titles down. “ _The Cleric’s Sacrifice_! She’s a war cleric who lost her family to demons and is out to get revenge against the demon king. Oh gosh, I didn’t realize anyone else in the castle was into this stuff. I mean, Cordy likes it not that she’d ever admit it.”

“Cordy?” Maribelle quirked an eyebrow at the nickname.

“Oh, Cordelia! She’d probably be upset if I blabbed about her like that, but we’re all old friends here. Ah, speaking of Pegasus Knights, _this_ might be more to your liking!”

“ _The Plains of Sacae_ ,” Maribelle read the title, placing the other books back in the pile. 

“It’s really popular with the trainees. Or it was when I was younger. Or maybe just Cordelia and I liked it. It’s part of a series, but you can read this one by itself. It’s the first book in the prequel series. Sorry, it’s confusing, but I would start with that one though I do have all ten from the set,” Sumia continued, pointing at the book in Maribelle’s hands.

“I’m afraid I don’t have much time for reading series…” she said, attempting to let her friend down lightly. 

Sumia’s hand whipped up in front of her mouth. “Of course! Your coursework. Well, then take that one. You don’t have to read the other books to enjoy it. Here are a couple others that are standalone. Great for study breaks! You’ll have to let me know if you like them. And no need to rush! Unless you can't put them down, that is. Most of these are just my personal copies anyway.”

Maribelle looked back at the range and did some quick arithmetic. A single side of the double faced unit could hold almost thirteen hundred individual volumes if each shelf was only three quarters full to allow for growth. Several looked to be at maximum capacity. Sumia’s collection extended to the other side of the unit and onto another range. She was still contemplating the magnitude of the collection when she left the library with a stack of recreational reading materials that she would not have time to even consider tackling. When she reached her quarters she realized the topic of law books had never come up.

//§//

The university was a strange place. Hierarchy was oppressively present, but there seemed to be less regard for titles and more for academic achievement to the point where individuals were celebrated for their reputation in a field and hopeful students would travel from far flung lands for a chance to learn under their tutelage.

She had grown more focused over the course of her formal academic career. Most students were the second or third sons of nobles who had no wish to join the clergy. Many had already received training and guidance far more regimented than her beginner’s attempts at reading by candlelight in camp at night. She knew going into the program of study she would be facing resistance, but she had already been forged by fire during the campaign. She was a noble of the highest order and a war hero. More importantly, she was determined. 

While powerful in her own right, she had moments of feeling out of her element. All previous learning efforts had been through private instruction or self-study. It only made things worse when she realized most students at the start of the program were her juniors by several years. Hushed chatter would waver as she passed her peers in the hallways or stop abruptly when she entered a lecture hall. It was not even a week before individuals began openly doubting her place.

One faculty member had implied it would be wise to seek out a husband while she was still ‘a rose in the spring of her youth’ before claiming winter would ‘soon cause such a rose to wilt’. Several students had suggested the mage school might suit her better, their tones replete with false innocence. 

Having already had to run a gauntlet of insults during her youth, she took most of the comments in stride until a master lecturer had called a meeting with her one day. His office was piled high with books, some of which appeared to be university property. She had to wonder how long they had been kept there as the ones in view of the window appeared sunbleached. On top of some stacks were loose sheets of vellum and various writing utensils. She began by inquiring after the request for her presence. He ponderously adjusted in his high-backed chair before offering what she assumed was meant to be a kindly smile.

“I simply wish to advise you that should you find the curriculum too difficult, I would be willing to facilitate a transfer to another area of study.”

Her eyes grew cold in response, shades of ruby glinting in warning. 

“I beg your pardon?” 

“There are simply those who feel it might better serve you to look into the possibility of entering into a different discipline. I myself have heard you are quite skilled in the healing arts and it would be a shame for those abilities to go to waste. I have a colleague at the mage school who would be willing to take an additional student outside of the traditional enrollment period,” the corners of his eyes crinkled as he spoke, continuing to smile at her.

There was a brief silence as she reeled from the shock. Tamping down on her incredulity at his audacity, she slowly rose from her seat while preparing a response.

“I have stared into the maw of the fell dragon Grima. I aided in the effort to tear him asunder with my own hands. You will have to do more than _that_ to deter me from completing this program.”

She sneered at his awed expression before turning on her heel and leaving. 

It was almost a relief to run into a familiar face on her way back to her quarters. Miriel also seemed pleased to see her and invited her to her study. She graciously accepted the offer only to realize she had been inducted into an experiment. If Miriel wanted her as a research volunteer, the other woman would be lending an ear. 

“He said I should transfer to the _mage_ school!” She huffed before remembering who she was talking to. ”Not that there is anything _wrong_ with the mage school, but that wasn't the purpose of my enrollment and he very well knew that. I suppose they think or hope or dream I will simply give up or at most become some thick-witted slouch’s clerk and do all the work for him while he cavorts about wasting his time and money. I’m well aware of how these brutes spend their coin. Down at the tavern after every session, the lot of them. I have it on good authority! If only their mothers knew.”

The authority she referred to was Gaius and Vaike who had won a considerable amount of that coin for themselves during games of chance against the much less street savvy and often inebriated academics before they had accompanied Lissa on her travels. 

They were drinking an exotic beverage that had recently gained traction through trade routes off of the mainland. Miriel had said she was testing its capacity as a mild stimulant. Maribelle wasn't the only one taking advantage of tonics to stay alert. In Miriel’s case, however, the cause was for her own personal studies. Her research was independent of any institution and Maribelle wondered aloud if Miriel was better off for it. 

“I appreciate the lack of oversight and any potential restrictions that might be placed on my studies by individuals such as the one you described, but access to additional resources would certainly be appreciated. I plan to complete this work within my lifetime, thus the necessity to maximize my waking hours and the reason for our meeting today. I would caution us both against over exertion, however, as that will be more costly in the long-term.”

After the first couple of sips, Maribelle had focused her efforts on stirring the substance. She much preferred tea. It was entirely possible Miriel had botched the brew. Her goal, after all, was functionality over flavor. It was one thing to drink an infusion with a grimace, but her understanding of this _kahve_ was that it was supposed to be enjoyed, not taken as one would endure a medicine.

“Yes, I suppose you are right about that.”

Miriel was a practical sort and she could appreciate that in a person.

//§//

No one from the faculty had the gall to have a similar conversation with her after her run in with the master lecturer, but she would be lying to say her relationship with many of her peers and instructors wasn’t strained. As always, she would simply have to prove her worth even if she half-killed herself to do so. If only it were a battle of arms instead of words, she would be delighted to defeat any challengers and then be on with her life. With words, however, she could still cut too close if she wasn’t careful. Her penchant for precision would seek out and target some vital point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry. The relationships tags are Accurate.  
> I'm also pretending they didn't have coffee yet in Awakening. I don't think it reached Europe until the 16th century.  
> She probably wouldn't wear regalia when she first started an academic program, but FE likes robes, so she gets to wear robes.  
> The line about roses wilting in winter is a reference to Garcilaso de la Vega's Soneto XXIII.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote a lot of this months ago.@_@ Like in May. Which is a bit weird because I’ve been writing most days and feel mixed about it since I think I’ve improved in some areas (not that it's ever a completely linear progression towards improvement). I've tweaked it, but I don't know how helpful it is to sit on much longer. Anyway, it's mostly me continuing to angst over no S support for these two.*sniffs* And feeling cranky about canon. As is tradition. Anyway, enjoy!: )

She sat across from Vaike who was scratching his head over the contents of the board laid before him. They had decided on a best out of three arrangement and it looked likely that Maribelle would wrap up the set with game two. They were in a common area of the barracks and Maribelle had to wonder if any manner of scandal would come of it from people with too much time on their hands and too little sense. A small part of her sometimes worried over how different she would be had she not experienced the hardships of war and the sincerity of friendship. The thought that her time could be spent on such idle pettiness pained her.

The room in the barracks was fitted with a series of sturdy wooden tables and the stone walls were bare save for a few retired banners that had once stood tall on battlefields, several bearing visible proof of their service. A neglected potted plant was shoved in one corner, its leaves drooping downward. The austere dressings of the space were not to her taste, but she understood the practicality of it all even if she felt the poor plant should be rehomed or put out of its misery. There was a staleness to the air, but attending lectures in old buildings that often smelled of mold and spending hours in dusty archives had built up a tolerance to odors and irritants that she never would have thought possible even after her time in the healing tent. They had settled at one of the smaller tables and were sitting across from each other.

“I will say, Vaike, your skill has certainly increased over time,” she said with a kind smile that slowly turned into something more assertive, “It won’t be enough, of course, but it is a marked improvement nonetheless.” The two had found a comfortable balance for mid-set banter that never went much beyond light teasing. “If you permit me, I will provide you with several pieces of advice once the match has concluded.” 

“Well, I don't know. I guess I don't lose as quick now, but ya still give me a solid whooping each game,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck as he reluctantly moved a piece.

Maribelle took little time in responding to his tentative foray into her side of the board. It was as if she predicted the option he would choose. Before he had time to recover from his last mental exertion it was his turn again. Noting his dismay, she attempted a different angle.

“I have heard from Lissa that Chrom is not what you might call adept at chess, so should you wish to prove yourself in this arena, perhaps I can help.” 

Any number of the Shepherds had heard of Vaike’s often one-sided rivalry with the Exalt. Maribelle had more intimate knowledge of their clashes from Lissa who would often lament over their seeming disregard for their personal safety when they sparred. It was a less common occurrence after the wars, but even though Vaike had ended his time traveling Ylisse, he still made regular appearances in Ylisstol and would take up his weapon to test his old friend. It was not her place to criticize the Exalt over such matters, but perhaps this would be a less dangerous challenge they could engage in under the safety of the castle roof. Vaike was currently staying near the training grounds by request of the knight captain to give the recruits some axe training as his style differed wildly from Sir Frederick’s. Maribelle had to wonder if it was due to the fact that in the aftermath of so many conflicts they were still in the process of cleaning up bandits and rogues at various points along their borders. The variety of characters who wouldn’t fight as honorably or as cleanly as Frederick. 

“You have my attention,” he said, appearing intrigued by the offer. 

“I shall teach the Teach,” she said with an amused tone before her self-assured smile turned into a more severe frown, “Not that I intend to lend any credence to that ridiculous self-appointed title.”

He grinned and leaned back, propping his feet up on one of the chairs diagonally from him as she observed the act and wondered if he forgot himself. 

“Civilization must surely be coming to an end if you think your boots belong on that chair,” she said, expression souring.

It didn’t seem to phase him, but he did remove his boots from the seat, instead opting to lean his chair on it's back legs as he made his next move on the board. Maribelle swiftly clicked her piece in place with a disapproving sniff. She had seen several of their less courteous companions fall that way, Vaike himself being one of them.

“Training’s well and good, but sometimes I miss traveling, y’know?” he said, changing the topic.

She took her time pondering his words, no snappy rejoinder at the ready as her feelings were mixed on the issue.

“I have resolved myself to retire from the field. I am needed here, you understand,” she said with a sigh. She also felt the desire to return to what felt like a time with less restrictions now that the fiends and the armies were no longer present. If only she had been able to travel with Lissa, but she couldn’t regret that decision either. It was truly for the best. The thoughts were enough to put a damper on her mood. They continued their game and Maribelle won, taking little joy from the victory.

“Wouldn’t it be great to do one last go at it?” Vaike asked after they had chatted strategy. She was pleased that he seemed to have a grasp of the methods she instructed him on as long she replicated them on the board itself. 

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“Well, everyone’s gone every which way. Guess it’d just be nice to see everyone together again,” he said. 

She rested her cheek in her hand, brows knitting.

“I do so miss all of our companions and I am one of the fortunate ones,” she said, “I see most who live in Ylisstol or pass through. If I had elected to stay in Themis, I fear things would be far lonelier even with all my correspondence.”

If it were anyone else, she might have to worry about sly comments about any interested parties. She had been one of the few to not find mutual love on the battlefield. Or at least some kind of lasting arrangement. Vaike wasn't one to gossip or tease that way and it was one of the reasons she made sure to find time for him when he made it into the capital. He had a straightforward manner to him that was refreshing.

“You still write all them letters?” he asked, “Courier showed up at least once a week.”

“Well, of course. Why ever would I stop?” she said, watching as a small group of trainees shuffled into the space smelling of sweat and dirt.

Vaike noticed the new arrivals as well, waving at several with a casual grin before returning his attention to her and appearing to mull over a response. Some paused to gawk at her in her dress, but she was experienced in ignoring unwanted attention

“Ah, nevermind. It's nothin’,” he said, leaving her quite unconvinced.

She met with Vaike several times while he was in the capital, but he never had a chance to test his new knowledge in a match against the Exalt. He had come close to defeating her in one of their last games before he returned to his hometown, a feat she teased was due to her excellence as an instructor. She was pleased to learn via one of her letters that he and his wife had accompanied Lissa on one final mission. She would be unable to join them, but was warmed by thoughts of camaraderie as she read through Lissa's accounts of events. For her part, she redoubled her efforts in hopes of making her own small contributions to the betterment of Ylisse.

//§//

It was an understatement to say she was surprised to see Lissa as she returned to her guest quarters after a lecture. There had been no mention of her return in her letters. Her initial reaction was to worry there had been some sort of emergency, but she seemed in no hurry.

Her hair was different. She had let it grow in cascades down her back. Her fingers twitched at the memory of spending many an evening taming the princess’ unruly locks at camp, combing out debris from battle and talking with low voices in one or the other’s tents. Her gown was more befitting that of a noble than anything Maribelle had ever seen her wear. She almost looked like her sister, until she saw her face, eyes glimmering with a hint of mischief before widening in shock.

“Maribelle!” she exclaimed, dropping the papers she had been carrying onto the floor before rushing to embrace her friend.

Maribelle bowed low to her old confidante, a compromise as her academic regalia were not meant for curtsies any more than her riding gear had been. Lissa fussed at the deference.

“We are no longer children nor are we on the battlefield… Court requires...” she started, but didn't seem to have the energy for a firmer response as her gaze slid to the marble floor. If she hadn't been feeling as bone weary she would have handled the unexpected sight of her friend more gracefully.

Lissa tugged at her hand and pulled her down the corridor.

“C’mon, consider this a formal invitation to tea,” she chirped, “This time I’ll brew a cup for you. I got pretty good at it on the road without you there and I’ve been hoping to surprise you!”

“But your documents!”

“Oh wow, see, this is why we’re a good team! You’ve always got my back.”

She felt off balance. Not only was she wearing her robes, she hadn't slept well in weeks, or rather, she had slept even more restlessly than was normal for her. Had she known, she would have planned. Planning always helped her pretend at perfection. She was a pauper in Lissa’s radiant presence. She wondered if Lissa even realized how beautiful she looked in that moment.

“Could I postpone?” she asked and at Lissa's frown, she further clarified,”Just give me twenty minutes to freshen up. I would rather not get dust and ink all over your things.”

Lissa thought it over for a moment before nodding. ”Well, knowing you, you’d probably be all distracted if you felt you weren’t in top form, so I guess I can let it pass. But if I don't see you soon, I’ll track you down! Really! I know something about how to do that now!”

Maribelle had to wonder how many other skills Lissa learned during her travels that were less than dignified. The memory of a letter excitedly explaining how to pick locks, complete with step-by-step illustrations, came to mind. Recruiting Gaius might have been a mistake.

//§//

She was blindsided by the topic of conversation. Lissa had trapped her in her private drawing room where various small plates were set, presumably for them to eat though it was a distant possibility at that moment. She had hedged as much as was believable and purposely misinterpreted a question. Any attempt to change the topic of discussion was recognized and called out. She could of course take her leave whenever, but it wouldn't be without consequence. A hopeful fluttering in her chest was at war with looming despair she had thought she had already vanquished or at the very least exiled to some place within her that never saw the light of day. Despite her struggles, she had been doing so well. She was tired and the work was difficult, but she was capable. She had moved on and she was content to focus on her professional aspirations as she was fortunate enough for most other areas in her life to be well-managed.

“I’m afraid I can't possibly know what you mean by that,” she asserted, waving a hand fan at her suddenly too warm face, well aware that her flustered appearance gave everything away yet determined to uphold the pretense anyway. She had even taken off her gloves, rationalizing the act away by deciding she did not want to dirty them with the food she had no intention of consuming.

Lissa's mouth had twisted in a frown before she puffed out a cheek, making her look much more like herself despite her new coiffure and wardrobe.

“Ooh sometimes you really are too stubborn for your own good! This isn't easy for me either! I was just hoping for an honest answer. If I’ve gone and messed the whole thing up, I want you to just say so instead of acting like you have no idea what I'm talking about!” 

Maribelle remained silent for a time though she could feel her resistance crumbling under Lissa's gaze.

“Of course I care for you. Everyone does. You were our light, our very sun, shining even during the darkest moments,” Maribelle reluctantly murmured as she continued to dodge Lissa's true meaning just as much as she avoided eye contact.

“You say those things. You’ve always said them and they made me so happy, but I realized when I was away that I never understood what you really meant by them,” Lissa explained, her tone imploring her for something more concrete,”What happened after the last war? We still were together a lot, but it felt different. As if we went our separate ways. Why was that?”

There were the questions she felt she could answer without laying herself completely bare.

“I knew I had to create my own happiness and purpose. I couldn't rely on you and your kindness forever. It wouldn't be good for either of us. I adore you, Lissa. More than words could ever say. I wanted you to seek your own path and not try to unduly influence what that would end up being. It was never my place.”

She didn't halt at the declaration. She had made it many times in various ways over the years. It wasn't new, but apparently the perspective was and she wasn't sure how to handle that. If Lissa had been distressed she would have reassured her and held her, but she was annoyed and beseeching her. All she could think to do was apologize, but Lissa interrupted her thoughts with another demand.

“But aren't you trying to make a decision on my behalf then? Isn't that just as bad? Just talk to me. We’ll work something out.”

Lissa sighed, holding Mirabelle’s hands in her lap.

“Some people ummm thought we were already together.”

_Ah, getting to the crux of it._

She blushed slightly, squeezing her hands, Maribelle responding weakly in kind.

“I didn’t bring it up, but there was sort of an… intervention, I guess you’d call it. One night when we were on the road, I can’t remember who called the gathering, but all of us had dinner around a bonfire. Lots of not very subtle hints were dropped. Even I picked up on it eventually.”

Lissa rapped her head lightly with her knuckles. Maribelle frowned at how she disparaged herself, but decided not to interrupt.

“I was really amazed. Here I was, thinking I’m your best friend in the entire world and I didn’t even know half of the stories they told me. I guess I was so busy being oblivious that I never properly looked at you. I mean really saw you and everything you were. I missed out on a lot. Like I never knew that you went to that tavern with Vaike! I thought he was lying until like five other people jumped in to back him up. Or,” and here she started giggling, "your training program with Olivia! I mean, I _heard_ , but I didn’t get all the details until they told me!”

“This… is mortifying,” Maribelle pulled her hands back to bring them up to cover her face. 

“It just seemed so not like you, but then I remembered all the times you helped me get crawlies to prank Chrom back or the time you sang off tune with me on the castle wall after my voice lessons had gone terribly. I _still_ feel bad for those poor guards on duty. You really care about the people who are close to you,” she finished softly.

Maribelle shuddered as one hand gently pulled her own from her face and another cupped her cheek, her skin heating at the contact. 

“So, I’ve wanted to ask you to please, let me take care of you for once.”

Any attempt at a response perished, strangled in her throat as her eyes welled up despite her efforts to get a hold of herself. Lissa kissed her cheek and pulled her close. It felt like a silent gesture of permission, her own hands grasping for something solid in response and finding purchase amid the folds of fabric she had been admiring earlier. She was vaguely aware that her sobs were neither dignified nor ladylike, but to fight them only made her breath hitch more forcefully. The best she could manage was to muffle the noise in Lissa's shoulder as her friend patiently stroked her hair murmuring quiet reassurances to her. She had thought she had ached enough over her loss and had been able to move on from it, so it was difficult to comprehend why she hurt so acutely in that moment. Did she mourn over time wasted? Had her various regrets all come to swarm her at once? As her convulsive cries calmed and a fatigue set in over her frame, she felt Lissa once again slide a hand over her cheek, brushing a tear away with a careful swipe of her thumb, before pressing her lips softly to Maribelle’s own. She tasted her tears in the kiss, only belatedly realizing Lissa's face was also tear stained as she tentatively reached out to caress soft skin.

The entire experience felt surreal. She attempted to catalog the sensations for later evaluation, as if part of her still doubted the truth of what had just occurred and the chance of it ever happening again. Lissa scrubbed her eyes with the edge of her sleeve before laughing, voice full of relieved joy. 

“I’m certain I look a fright,” Maribelle croaked before wrinkling her nose and frowning, “I sound it.”

Lissa offered her a handkerchief which Maribelle was certain was not up to the task, but she took it with thanks anyway.

“There's a fresh wash basin in the usual spot if you need it.”

Maribelle nodded, still processing. She walked over to the water, sighing at the state of her appearance as she caught her reflection in a mirror. She had survived the apocalypse, but could she survive Lissa?

“Are you quite certain you know what you are asking?” she murmured, hands gripping the edge of the basin and shoulders drawn forward.

It was possible her query could be seen as offensive, but she needed to know. She wouldn't be able to cope with being strung along even with the best of intentions. It would ruin her completely.

Before Lissa could respond she continued more clearly. “I want more from you than hand holding and clandestine kisses in the dark. I refuse to play a secondary role and as you are already aware, I am often incapable of sharing, certainly not in that way. I want to openly support you in attaining your dreams and hope for the same from you as my partner in all things. I have no intention of giving up on my current goals and would not ask that of you either. Even if it continues to take you far from home. We will never be married in the traditional sense though should you want a ceremony, I would be honored to oblige. If you find these terms agreeable… I am utterly and wholly yours and have been for far longer than I would ever care to admit.”

She spoke her words as an oath and prayed they were the right ones.

Lissa's silence caused a cold dread to coil in her abdomen. She turned only to be greeted by an enthusiastic embrace as Lissa leaned upwards to rub her cheek against her face before kissing her several times in quick succession.

“Ha! I love you! I love you so much! Of course! And I'm all _yours_!”

She allowed herself to relax in the embrace, several layers of tension sloughing off in the process, but it still felt as though her emotions weren't in check. She held onto one of Lissa's hands and walked over to their seats before moving her chair even closer to Lissa's. Years of poise lessons helped her fend off a sudden weakness in her knees, but it did nothing to prevent her from leaning against Lissa as they both sat. Lissa tugged her even closer, laughing again in a way that healed her heart. They sat in a peaceful silence for a few moments, Lissa reaching for a hand and lacing their fingers together. There were still many things to discuss, but one thought in particular caused her some concern.

“Come now, this was your very first inkling that perhaps… you might have feelings for me as well?”

“I just um always thought I wanted to be more like you! You’re so elegant and more like a princess than I could ever be.”

“Oh, darling, you are perfect as you are!” It was an old worry of Lissa's and for all her own fussing over decorum, she would always reassure her over any self-doubts.

“I never thought being _with_ you was an option,” Lissa admitted before taking a moment to think. “Remember when we watched the stars?”

“How could I forget?” Maribelle breathed.

“I think I could have kissed you right then, but I didn't understand that's what I might’ve been feeling, so I just… brushed it off. I just wanted to spend time with you. I thought that would make me happy enough, so when you didn't want to travel with me and then stopped talking to me before I left that first time, I was so upset. You were the person I would have gone to talk about it to figure it out and you didn't want to see me at all!”

“My apologies. I would never want to cause you distress. I suppose… I had my own doubts as well. I never wanted to impose. You were always so kind even when I was in a mood. I couldn't begin to allow myself to hope. It became too much to bear,” she explained, once again feeling overwhelmed with emotion, but maintaining her composure.

“I talked with Chrom, too, he was really… kind about it. He said he was surprised, but not at the same time. He also told me how hard you were working,” Lissa smiled at her affectionately before growing somber, “He… umm said Emm and… Phila were the same.”

It was now Lissa’s turn to choke up, Maribelle quickly moving to pull her close. 

“Emm uhh still doesn't remember. She might never,” she said, voice uneven, “I don't know. It's strange… you know there's a stone for each of them. I visited today. Earlier. After talking with Chrom. The site was clean. Someone leaves them flowers.”

Lissa looked down at their intertwined fingers. With her free hand, Maribelle rubbed her back. They sat in silence for some time, Lissa resting her head on her shoulder. 

“You could stay here if you want,” Lissa said, sitting up with a sudden movement, her face flushing scarlet at the potential implications, “N-not that I’m expecting anything! I just arrived this morning, so I'm actually pretty tired and I’ve asked not to be bothered for breakfast, so you can sleep in if you need the extra time. Whatever you want to do!”

Maribelle hugged her again, burying her face in sweet smelling hair and laughed. 

“Of course. I’m grateful for any time spent with you, darling. We shall figure out everything else as it comes.”

For once Maribelle decided to not worry about things and allowed herself to be content in the moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have plans for like 3-4 more chapters (and like... 20 more pages written?), but we'll see... I almost want to post some of the other stuff as their own one shots. So maybe it'll be like one more chapter/a change in summary and some related one shots. I'll probably work on other stuff for a bit though.


End file.
